


Trials

by Puniyo



Series: Compass [1]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: M/M, abuse on internal thoughts, attempt at fluff, birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 20:25:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10578852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puniyo/pseuds/Puniyo
Summary: There is always one thought in whatever they do: a hug.  Javier Fernández and Yuzuru Hanyu had known from the start that their game of hugs was more than just physical contact.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at the Yuzuvier couple! I'm still perplexed by Worlds 2017 and I just had to try to write something on these two (who stole my heart since... since ever?... and blame that hug after the medal ceremony)  
> I wrote this fic on April 9th. My birthday is tomorrow so maybe this is some sort of gift to myself... haha! And Javi's birthday is almost coming so I promised myself I could finish this piece before next week (yay!)
> 
> Note: English is not my first language (I apologize for grammar and strange expressions). All the ideas from this writing are purely from my imagination. Comments are always sweet ^^

There is always one thought in whatever they do: a hug.

It is always a hug. The best short programs start from a hug. The best trainings continue with hugs. The best medals always end in hugs.

That’s why the podium at Grand Prix Final was somehow slightly cold. That’s why the podium at Four Continents, even at the Olympic venue, had missed its expected warmth. That’s why the podium at Worlds simply felt incomplete.

Not that Yuzuru was complaining about the golden medal that hung on his neck and occasionally tickled his chest through his river-and-forest-inspired costume. Or that he disliked sharing the laurels with his fellow Asian skaters Shoma and Boyang Jin (how long hasn’t the world seen a podium without Western influence?). Or that he was so tired that every single fiber of his muscles was aching for some deserved rest.   

And not that he wanted to add one more silver round token to his collection of medals. Or that he wanted to revive the nights of insomnia when he had to resort to the lullaby symphony conducted by his tears to barely be able to fall asleep. It’s just that something was missing. It’s just that, this year, it was a rather _lonely_ podium.

***********

It is always a hug. The best games start with a hug. The best long programs continue with hugs. The best galas always end in hugs.

That’s why the podium at Trophée de France was just a mere formality. That’s why the podium at European Championships, even when it was his fifth consecutive title, had lost its special appeal. That’s why missing the podium at Worlds hurt more than he had imagined.

Not that Javier was blaming his fall in the quad Salchow in the free program or the not-so-perfect triple loop or the flip combination to be his guillotine. Or that he was feeling depressed and had no appetite during the closing banquet. Or that he cared whether people would say that his Malagueña was nothing more than two and forty minutes of sheer luck.

And not that he desperately wanted to add another golden round token to his collection of medals (being three times world champion wouldn’t be bad too though). Or that he wanted to be bombarded by cameras, and flashlights, and microphones of all sizes and formats, and impertinent questions about his feelings on the ice and _off_ the ice. It’s just that something was missing. It’s just that, this year, he missed the podium with _him_.

***********

April 15th, 2017

The competitive season had finished with new quad trials, reporters’ speculation about who the first skater to break the quad Axel barrier would be, and a new world record of _223.20_ points in the free program. The season had finished for those who did not have to compete at the World Team Trophy. Most skaters could finally book holidays away from ice rinks and sharpen their blades for ice shows. At least most of them would definitely take a deep breath before thinking of new songs, new choreography sequences, or new jump layouts for the Olympic season.    

Javier Fernández was one of those who could put down the skates and the training gear. Spain, being a nation focused on sports that involved balls (size not important and not relevant to the crowd-appealing criteria), did not build a strong team to compete at the coming WTT. Well, besides the skating programs, cheerleading dances, unusual flag waving, and cute mascots always made this competition different from the others. And he would certainly enjoy it from the stands (and take a few photos with his loyal Japanese fans).

Thirteen days had passed since the end of Worlds Championship. Brian was busy at the moment preparing his training camp in Singapore and David did not want to be disturbed while his mind was concocting new arm movements and ideal moments for Javier’s trademark smirk (it never goes unnoticed). That’s maybe why Tracy was the only one to call him in the early morning when he was barely awake to congratulate him. The Spanish skater glanced at the clock above his TV. It was 9:07 pm. Dinner had been a simple chicken breast ramen, the kind that he used to cook when he was too lazy. The empty bowl lay in the impeccable clean sink on his kitchen in Toronto.

Yes, today he should be in Spain celebrating with his parents and his sister Laura. But somehow, he was sitting alone in his living room, even his cat Effi deserting him and nested not-so-quietly in its favorite corner. He had flown home after Helsinki and stayed there for one week. And while his family was always very supportive of his career choices, the media not so much, especially when he had finished _off_ podium after two years of glory. And above all, they were constantly reminding him of how _old_ he was becoming. For the first time, he felt he would suffocate (is this what Yuzuru felt every time journalists stuck to him like ants drawn to sugar?), and he decided to return to Toronto.

Speaking of Yuzuru, he had not heard of his fellow training mate since April 2nd. The Japanese skater must had been training again like no tomorrow for his last competition of the season. Maybe he was practicing that quad Lutz that he brought to their conversations every single time Brian was present. Or maybe he was sitting on the ice, a shy smile creeping on his face due to an unexpected fall on his triple Axel. One that would make the entire world smile.

Ahh… Javier missed his partner. He missed their overly complicated views about programs with additions in Spanish and Japanese whenever their thoughts were not refined fast enough through their own mental English filter. He missed their quad challenges after everyone’s practice sessions, where they would try all sorts of entries and quads attempts (and land on everything except their feet) until Tracy came to give them a motherly warning about injuries or Brian threatening to ban them from jumping for the entire week (which one was scarier they couldn’t tell). He missed running his fingers through the younger skater’s accentuated shoulder blades or his (tiny) waist every time he spaced out in the middle of the rink. He even missed feeling the soft, silky hair tempting his fingertips and messing with Yuzuru’s hair just to earn him a punch in his solar plexus.

But more than anything, he missed the hugs. The winning hugs. The congratulatory hugs. The comforting hugs. The playful hugs. The painful hugs. The I-had-a-bad-day hugs. The random hugs. The no reason hugs. _Their_ hugs. And he wanted a hug today. He had put his mobile to the silence mode, tired of the non-stopping siren sound from all upcoming messages. He would read all of them later. Maybe tomorrow. Because for now, he just wanted a hug.         

Effi was suddenly startled by the loud music that was his owner’s house bell. Javier stood up and walked to the door, cursing with each step that he took about the person on the outside, who dared to disturb his longing.

***********

April 13th, 2017

\- ‘What did you just say?’ – Yuzuru’s mother almost choked on the small tofu piece in her bowl.

\- ‘I’ll be flying tomorrow to Toronto.’ – The Japanese skater had put down his chopsticks on the table as sign of having finished his meal. He had a very serious look in his face but his eyes were pleading for her to accept his selfish wish this time. Just this time.

\- ‘You will be competing in five days! What is so important in Toronto that you must go back in such a hurry?’ – She did not know about this sudden trip and he was the happiest of all of them when returning to Japan once Worlds had finished. Even Kikuchi-san was having a few days off before WTT.

\- ‘I promise I’ll be back on time.’- He joined his hands in a praying gesture in front of his chest. – ‘I will not try crazy combos or stalk Jeffrey-san about next season. I just need to go to Toronto. Please.’

Yuzuru’s mother knew that her son was probably the most stubborn person in this entire planet. And if he wanted to go, nothing would deter him. She just reminded him of his asthma medication and to bring along the dark blue coat. Yes, it was April, but it was still rather cold in Toronto.

***********

April 14th, 2017

The flight to Toronto from Tokyo would take more than 10 hours. If there were no delays, he would probably arrive night time. The old lady sitting next to him was sleeping in a rather unusual position in her seat and her neck would probably burst in pain if she did not wake soon. From the way she was snoring, Yuzuru knew she wouldn’t. And he too knew that some sleep would do him good and lessen his anxiety but he just couldn’t do it. He was mentally computing the time difference between Japan and Canada, and adding a few minutes here for luggage claim and a few minutes there for the subway, he hoped that Javi would still be awake by the time he arrived.

And no, he had not told anyone about his sudden decision to fly to Toronto. Brian had casually mentioned about the Spanish skater going back earlier instead of in May, as he had already planned, when they were discussing their training strategies for WTT. Yuzuru couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong. And he just needed confirmation for that. And the more he thought about this, the more he realized he missed Javi.

Ahh… Yuzuru missed his partner. He missed explaining to Javi his views on _Hope and Legacy_ and failing to keep all his sentences in English, and his older friend trying to help him with more fluent English skills but somehow spending a good time subconsciously translating his gestures in Spanish. He missed their time on the ice rink at night, when all others had already gone home and they would just practice strange step sequences to random songs they had on their phones, just because it was fun to see Javi trip over on a salsa rhythm or he himself making hip-hop moves on a tango. He missed Javi’s reassuring grip on his shoulders, Javi’s hand on his waist, which felt natural to him while he would feel ticklish with other people. He even missed the way Javi would purposely ruin his hair after he had tamed those unruly strands.

But more than anything, he missed the hugs. Hugs that he tried to escape from at first, but that he welcomed now. Hugs that he avoided with all the other skaters, but that he sought from a certain Spanish skater. Hugs that only involved his body in the beginning, but that he poured his soul on them now. Hugs that he only shared with Javi. _Their_ hugs.

And he couldn’t wait to arrive at Javi’s apartment. Just because he missed him.

***********

April 15th, 2017

Effi was suddenly startled by the loud music that was his owner’s house bell. Javier stood up and walked to the door, cursing with each step that he took about the person on the outside, who dared to disturb his peaceful evening.

\- ‘Yuzuru!?’ – Javier stood immovable at the presence of his partner. He was wearing a pair of worn off jeans and an orange hoodie – a rather casual style compared to his tight-fitting black under armour gear that emphasized his bodyline (and that he secretly lusted for more than he should.) – ‘Shouldn’t you be in Japan?’ – He was still quite shocked at the unexpected visit of his friend but it did not make him forget about his manners and he quickly invited Yuzuru in, who was smiling rather shyly.

\- ‘I should. But today more important.’   

And he threw his arms over Javier’s shoulder, hugging him as strong as he could, his face resting on the crook of his neck, like two pieces of puzzle that fitted just perfectly. He could hear the Spanish’s pulse quickening and he mumbled in his ears, his breathe sending shivers down Javi’s spine.

\- ‘Happy birthday Javi.’

And Javier Fernández, twice world champion and the current undefeated European champion in figure skating, returned the hug, his arms carefully not crushing the younger man with his embrace.

\- ‘I love you, Yuzuru.’

**Author's Note:**

> According to ISU's website, Javier was born in April 15th, 1991.
> 
> The people mentioned in the fic include Shoma Uno (2nd place in World this year), Boyang Jin (3rd place in World this year), Brian Orser (coach), Tracy Wilson (coach), David Wilson (choreographer) and Kikuchi-san (Yuzuru's personal physician?).
> 
> I hope you had enjoyed this ride! I feel tempted to write a sequel (a more mature one *blushes*).


End file.
